


WANT

by islandgirl_246



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgirl_246/pseuds/islandgirl_246
Summary: Peter wants, but Stiles is unaware.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in my attempt to find my writing equilibrium in the midst of a lot of emotional challenges over the past two weeks. Steter seems to be my go to place for a bit of comfort right now, especially feeling tapped out.

It curled in his stomach like a ball of heat – like that feeling a starving man gets when he sees a hot plate of food with all his favourites laid out like temptation for the very first time. It was heady and bewitching, and intoxicating . . . and maddening.

The lights were flashing and the bodies moving tight against each other, more in a simulation of sex on the dancefloor than actual dancing. All except one, and he always danced with pure uncoordinated abandon. He threw his head back, putting his throat on display, as his pale skin all but glowed under the florescent lights. His hands were wrapped around his partner's neck and the sheer pleasure on his face was mesmerising.

Peter felt his teeth threaten and ground them together to keep the canines from descending and the growl back, as he watched the two grind together and felt a surge of jealousy mixed with anger. Stiles Stilinski could do better than that jerk, he really could. He was the ultimate tease, and Peter’s wolf was going crazy, especially given the worthless asshole the young man was currently wrapped around and gyrating to the pulsing music.

Peter sipped his scotch and watched, glued to the same spot he’d been in all night at the one-way glass, glancing down into his club. Occasionally one of his waitresses came to refresh his drink and find out if he wanted anything else before she disappeared downstairs once more, but through it all he could not take his eyes from the young man.

“You’re obsessed, you know that?” Derek said dryly, coming to stand beside him, already knowing without even looking the object of this intense focus.

Peter raised his glass and sipped again, content to ignore his nephew unless he had actual business to discuss.

Derek sighed. “The stock hasn’t arrived. At this rate we’ll be out of the ingredients for a few of our popular specials come tomorrow night, if the order still doesn’t arrive. This is the second time they’ve slipped up and not arrived when they said they would, with no reasonable explanation.”

“What’s Boyd said?”

“That he warned them last time and Steve assured it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Which specials?”

“Coney Island, Master Switch, Genesis, maybe Frosty, and  . . .” he paused because he’d saved the best for last, “and Temptation.”

Peter growled low in his throat, then exhaled. “Options?”

“Brekenridge. They’re further away but they have a good reputation with their customers,” Derek responded, handing the file in his hand to Peter. “If we put in an order at least for what we need immediately and then hammer out a deal for the rest, we can be supplied by noon tomorrow and have enough to supply the night in time for opening at 6. Boyd knows a guy.”

“Do it, but tell Steve I want to see him, and it’s not a request.”

Derek frowned. “You can’t kill him, Peter.”

Peter sighed. “I’m not going to kill him. I just want to talk to him.”

“That’s what you said about Dupingy,” Derek drawled.

“Dupingy was a wanna-be gangster, trying to set up shop and extort businesses. He should have known better than to try that in my territory. Plus, he was arrogant and stupid with it,” Peter paused. “Just set it up with Steve, the sooner the better.”

Derek continued to frown but nodded silently, knowing that even though his uncle had yet to look at him, he’d noted the gesture. “Why don’t you just go talk to him?” he asked no longer referring to business, following Peter’s gaze to the dance floor. He was not sure if he should even ask this or what Peter’s response would be.

“Goodbye, nephew,” Peter said with the finality one knew better than to argue with or question.

The beta spun on his heels and left the office. Peter continued to sip and watch.

++++++

“We should go,” Kellan whispered against his skin, lips brushing his neck, as they stood against the bar.

“But I wanna drink and dance,” Stiles moaned, still moving to the beat despite the edge of the bar counter rubbing bracingly against his ribs.

Kellan’s eyes flashed, “But I have plans for us for the rest of the night. Plans that include you in that little item I bought yesterday and on your knees.”

Stiles’ stomach sank, destroying his good mood and the slight buzz he had going. He turned to face the bartender and indicated for another shot, and quickly apologised to the fairy he bounced, when her wings fluttered briefly. But she smiled and he approximated something that was half smirk, half grimace and all was forgiven.

“Easy slugger,” Erica said from behind the bar as the glowing green concoction was placed before him.

Stiles grinned this time, toothy and sharp, tossing the drink back and exhaling as he watched a curl of vapour from his lips form a wolf in front of his face before the make-shift animal threw back its head and appeared to howl, then pranced away and disappeared.

Green Temptation was his favourite drink. Whereas most people’s consumption resulted in various images of things they desired, for some reason he always got the wolf, and for reasons he couldn’t explain he always wanted to get the wolf. It was the one thing that annoyed Kellan, who could only reach the beta stage but not shift to full wolf. The drink was also a most potent mixture that went straight to his head.

“Come on, Stiles. I’m horny and want to go,” Kellan rubbed against him.

“I want to dance, Kelz. You said we could tonight. We’ve barely been here an hour,” he complained, frowning.

“Try two, Stiles, and that’s an hour longer than I would have liked. Can we just go?” Kellan became mulish.

“Why don’t you go? I’m going to dance,” he moved to head back to the dancefloor when his boyfriend grabbed his arm in a vice grip.

“We’re leaving, Stiles. Now!”

Stiles reacted without thinking. He was instantly thrown into the past and the last time someone had man-handled him and the sting of electricity was released before he could think.

“Ow!” Kellan yelled, letting go and shaking his hand out, eyes looking in betrayal at Stiles. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“What the fuck were you thinking grabbing me like that? You know better, Kellan,” Stiles said, pissed now.

He watched as Kellan’s eyes started to glow yellow and the man allowed the beta form to shift his face. “What did you say to me?”

Stiles shook his head, sad. “I’m outta here.”

“Stiles . . .”

“Don’t you fucking touch me if you know what’s good for you,” he grated, jerking away from Kellan and moving off through the crush of bodies out to the back of the club. He needed to clear his head and he wanted to do it alone. _How’d he manage to always find the assholes?_ They’d only been together, what, three weeks. That was four days longer than the last disaster had lasted.

_What was wrong with him? Was he so unlovable?_

++++++

Peter was moving before he was consciously aware of it. He’d seen the annoyance on the boyfriend’s face, a look Stiles had first missed when he’d stretched across to Erica and ordered his favourite drink once more. It always brought a smile to Peter’s face and a vicious kind of satisfaction each time Stiles ordered that particular concoction because he knew what the boy’s image would be. Had almost asphyxiated on his own drink the first time the wolf had appeared and did a little prancing for the boy. Peter had choked and sputtered, then cussed.

_Of course Stiles would get the wolf. Of fucking course._

He was at the bottom of the stairs and moving out the back of the club where Stiles had disappeared and where Kellan was already in pursuit.

“Look, asshole. I said no!” Stiles voice carried a ‘100 per cent done’ tone. The one that was usually followed by the spark letting loose one of his colourful zaps. Clearly this newest boyfriend had yet to be on the receiving end of Stiles’ ire, unlike the last two before him.

Peter rounded the far corner as the beta roared, and he heard an incensed, “Fuck!” and the alleyway lit up with a bright white light. Peter skated to a standstill, watched the panting man with the beta laid out unconscious at his feet. Stiles looked up and their eyes met – the Spark’s filled with white light and a special kind of ire; Peter’s red with anger and want.

“Mr. Hale,” the boy panted, light fading from his eyes as he looked between the Alpha and the fallen body at his feet guiltily. “I can explain.”

Peter raised his eyebrows and held in the bright laugh that wanted to peel out from his depths. He was fascinated, and tickled and felt something well up in his chest that he forced away with effort.

“Are you alright?”

The young man’s eyes went wide. Clearly he’d been expecting a far different response. His stance relaxed and he unconsciously shook out his hands at his sides. “Yeah.” The circumstances that led him to shocking the wolf seemed to return suddenly and Peter smelled the confusion and sadness emanating from the Spark.

“Boss?” Behind Peter, Boyd and Derek were already claws ready.

“Take this piece of trash out, please,” Peter said, although his eyes had yet to leave Stiles. “Do you mind?”

Again the young man started like he had been expecting to be blamed for what took place. His brow was furrowed as he looked at Peter, then he tilted his head as if trying to get a read on the Alpha, but shook his head in the negative.

“Good. See that he doesn’t return,” Peter instructed before addressing Stiles. “Come on,” he said before the Spark had a chance to get a good read on him. He walked away and listened for the light footfalls following, as Boyd hefted the wolf over his shoulders and left the alley.

Derek glanced at Stiles with a small smirk on his face as his eyes met his uncle’s.

“Don’t,” Peter warned, and Derek’s smile turned into a small chuckle as he went back to his duties. Peter jabbed a button to call the lift, instead of taking the other way that would lead them back into the club.

“What was that?” Stiles asked softly, as the elevator doors closed them into the space.

“Just my nephew being an asshole,” he rumbled a response.

Stiles’ lips rippled as one corner lifted before he seemed to reconsider the laugh and said instead, “Seems the night for them.”

Peter laughed as the doors slid open and Stiles preceded him out of the lift. “Drink?” he asked as Stiles started to fidget, shoving his hands into his pockets before removing them and wandering over to the one-way mirror and cracking his knuckles as he went.

The Spark stood there in silence for a minute, anger, anxiety, uncertainty and sadness warring for position on his face. “Stiles?” Peter said again, “Do you want something to drink?”

++++++

Stiles had just realised just how much of the club was seen from this vantage point when Peter repeated the question and he jumped again, chastising himself for being so skittish. It wasn’t every day that the Alpha of Beacon Hills came to your rescue after you’d just committed an act of harm against a fellow supernatural.

Peter was not known for fooling around when it came to things like that. He had a no harm policy in effect in the territory and especially in the club, yet he’d allowed his boys to cart Kellan off to obviously escort him out of the club, and here was Stiles, without the supernatural cuffs to limit his powers and no one had yet called the cops to take him into custody or for questioning.

“Ummm, sure. Vodka sour?”

The owner simply smiled and nodded to the girl Stiles had not even realised had entered the room. “Usual for me,” Peter said, and the girl turned away to do his bidding. Then those very blue eyes were on him once again and Stiles resisted the urge to fidget.

“You’re sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah,” his gaze dropped to his feet. To be honest he was more embarrassed than hurt. He’d never expected Kellan to react like that. Hell all they did was stay in and have sex. Every single time Kellan called it was like a booty call. True, Stiles hadn’t minded because the man knew the exact way he liked it, but damn, _was it so wrong to want to be enjoyed for something other than his skills in bed?_

“You’ve got quite the view up here,” he commented, attempting to shift his own self-recriminations and the direction of the conversation.

“I like to know what’s happening around me,” the Alpha responded and Stiles darted another glance at him to find the eyes still firmly set on him. “It prevents all manner of troubles later.”

“Is that how you knew . . .” he trailed off.

“I saw when you rejected his advances at the bar, but when you left and he followed, and I figured he hadn’t taken no to mean no.”

“Ah.” _Damn it._ To have had the Alpha with a front row seat to his mortification was a bit much. “Maybe I should go, unless you need me to make a statement or something.”

“Do you wish to press charges?” Peter tilted his head at him.

Stiles shrugged, tossing off the suggestion with a slight giggle. “Not much sense in it. Now he knows I can fry his ass if he ever tries that again. I don’t think he’ll bother. Plenty of ass out there and all . . .” he shrugged again, turning back to the glass, not wanting to see the man’s reaction to what he had inadvertently revealed about his and Kellan’s “relationship”.

He did not see the frown Peter shot at the back of his head, picking up on the shame that the young man was feeling.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Peter said. “He’s simply a jackass, and one you should avoid.”

Stiles emitted something like a sneer, “Right!”

“Besides, you’re more than a piece of ass, as you put it, and if he doesn’t see that he clearly doesn’t deserve you,” Peter said, and Stiles heart skipped.

His mind was stalling on a possible response when a knock on the door and something that smelled divine had Stiles turning towards the door to the office instead, to seek out what his nose was picking up. The girl was back with their drinks, but following her was a blond pushing a trolley with several silver covered platters. He thought he saw Peter raise an eyebrow and his lips twitch before the blond grinned at the Alpha while setting the dishes down, and winking at Stiles as both servers left the room to a low growl from the Alpha.

Stiles stood there dumb-founded, but only for a moment, because just then an embarrassing gurgle sounded from the region of his gut. He closed his eyes. _Yup, humiliation was now complete._

++++++

Peter couldn’t help it, he chuckled.

“Come, eat,” he invited, uncovering the dishes which the two servers had moved from the trolley to the table off to the right of Peter’s desk.

“I . . .”

“Stiles, you’re hungry. Have a meal with me.”

The young Spark moved forward and took the seat Peter had indicated to him, looking still a bit shell-shocked. The Alpha took the seat obliquely opposite and began to dish up the food in the two plates provided.

“Is this Orani’s?” Stiles asked, licking his lips.

Peter smiled, full and warm. “Yeah. The owner’s a . . . a family friend.”

He watched as Stiles picked up a fork and dug in with gusto. The younger man moaned and Peter felt it down in his toes, cursing his body to behave and chastising his wolf which rose to claim.

Stiles suddenly looked up and their eyes met, Peter frozen still, Stiles’ mouth filled with savoury fragrant rice. “Sorry?” the man mumbled around his puffed cheeks. He chewed and swallowed, before saying sheepishly, “Guess I **was** hungry? I promise I have better manners than this.”

Peter chuckled again and shook his head, “You’re fine. Just fine.”

“Why are you feeding me anyway and don’t tell me it’s because I was hungry.”

“I suspect this is my nephew’s doing, but to answer your question, because I wanted to.”

“Why,” the young man asked, not satisfied with the lack of information.

“Because I’ve wanted to for a while,” Peter said honestly, watching closely for a reaction. What he got was a delicate blush staining Stiles’ cheeks and a fork on pause on the way to his mouth.

“You wanted to have dinner with me?” he asked confused.

++++++

“Why?” Stiles’ asked, heart was pounding, trying to beat its way out of his chest at the Alpha’s words. The man had just told him he’d wanted to have dinner with him, and not just now, but for a while. _What was a while, anyway?_

 _Getting off track, Stiles. Stay on track. The Alpha knew who he was! Shit, ok, that was dumb, of course the Alpha knew who he was. He’d called him by his name earlier and not just as Spark, as so many others did. But what did it mean?_ _He was freaking out here._

“Do you remember the first time you came into my club?” Peter asked him, pouring water into his tumbler.

“Umm, when it opened?” he blushed again. _Damn his fair skin._

“The first night it opened. You came in with a few humans and a few supernaturals,” Peter clarified. “That was the first time I saw you.”

Stiles grabbed the glass like a lifeline and took a big swallow. He still remembered that it was Danny who suggested they should go to the opening. It had been a night of fun and friends, and if Stiles remembered correctly, also the night he broke up with what’s-his-name.

Stiles had spent the night dancing with Danny and a few other friends, and his boyfriend at the time hadn’t much appreciated it – but what did the ass expect when he declared that he didn’t dance “to this kind of music”, with his nose turned up. Like if Alternative was the worst thing he’d ever heard.

It’d been enough for Stiles and the others to ditch him at the bar and proceed to the dance floor. He recalled that night they hadn’t paid for any drinks; Erica, the bartender declaring that their night was on the house. Stiles hadn’t questioned it then, but now he wondered.

He swallowed, setting the glass down. “That was two years ago.”

Peter smiled and his eyes glowed red a second before returning to their electric blue.

 _God, he has gorgeous eyes_ , Stiles thought absently. _Hell, he had gorgeous everything._

“What can I say? It was a memorable night,” he responded as Stiles blushed more.

++++++

Peter was enjoying watching Stiles blush as well as the constant “buh-dump” in the rhythm of his heartbeat; the flare of arousal also didn’t hurt. In fact, it was quite flattering.

“So I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to go out with me? Lunch on Sunday? Of course you can say no, having just broken up with . . .,” Peter crooked his head sharply, reminding Stiles he’d actually until moments ago been a couple.

“Right,” he said, eyes still globes focussed on Peter. “No, I mean yes, I mean . . .” he exhaled. “It’s no problem. I’d like to have lunch, with you. That’d be nice.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at noon?”

“You know where I live?” Stiles asked and Peter delighted in the way his heart took off again, scampering.

“Yes, Stiles. I know where you live.”

“Well that’s settled then,” his voice shook just a bit.

The two returned to dinner, and inconsequential chatter.

++++++

So later that night when Peter dropped him off at his apartment and pulled him close to lay a kiss on his surprised lips, apart from the wildly beating hearts, and the rumble of contentment from Peter’s wolf, Stiles’ toes curled deliciously in his kicks and he felt the evening could not have possibly ended on a higher note.

He really liked where this was heading.

Maybe at some point he’d ask to see Peter’s wolf. _You know, he had this thing about wolves. They were awfully tempting._

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a note if you have something to say. Thanks for reading nevertheless.  
> (Now on Tumblr as Deislandgirl-blog. Come visit if you care to.)  
> [Tumblr](https://deislandgirl-blog.tumblr.com/)


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